In the past ten days I have written a newsletter for people with mood disorders, a piece about sustaining Easter joy throughout the year, and a grant proposal for a large air conditioning system. Right now I'm editing articles about Japanese culture. Fortunately I haven't had to write those; my input is limited to profound questions like, "Uh, is furoshiki the singular or the plural?"
The level of entropy that descends on the house during periods like this is jaw-dropping. Little Guy made some kind of mini-doorway out of dozens of pencils taped together last night while I was gone to take Dancer to Nut rehearsal. He was distraught after I discovered tape on the dining room chairs and confiscated the roll. "How can I survive if I can't invent things with tape?" he wailed.
Tomorrow we'll do our Halloween math, sorting and graphing candy. I forgot about that today, having repressed the whole holiday after enduring hours of overheard candy-swapping negotiations Sunday afternoon.
I logged almost five hours today on mass transit, hauling kids to swimming, ballet, home, and then back to ballet to pick up Dancer. Fortunately I'm reading Dante's Inferno, which is a fine choice for keeping the inconveniences of life in perspective.